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I hurriedly made my way through the dark corridors, my footsteps echoing softly as I reached the door of a particular room. I entered without a sound, but it was no use—Sylus was a light sleeper. "Who is it?" His voice was rough, strained from sleep. "Oh, it’s you," he muttered, glancing up at me from the bed. His eyes narrowed, irritation crossing his face. "I told them that no one was allowed in." I hesitated for a moment but stepped closer, still cautious. "Some people are about to lose their jobs," he said, addressing the twins who were eavesdropping from the doorway.
I sighed, shaking my head. "Come on, Sylus. Don't be rude. They only let me in because I asked them to." He grumbled, crossing his arms. "I don’t like how you’re covering for them," he mumbled, though the usual bite in his tone was absent. He then motioned for me to sit beside him on the bed. "Clingy today, aren’t you, Mr. Sylus?" I teased, settling down next to him. Without warning, Sylus shifted slightly, his gaze meeting mine with a flicker of something unspoken. "I want to use your lap as a pillow."
My brows furrowed in surprise. "Sylus, are you okay?" I asked, my voice laced with concern as he sat up, placing his head in my lap. He ignored my question, instead settling comfortably against me. His body felt unusually warm, and I quickly ran my fingers through his damp hair, the familiar sensation of his sweat immediately alerting me. "Sylus, are you sick?" I asked softly, worry creeping into my voice. He huffed in response, his lips curling into a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
"Am I sick?" he scoffed, his voice raspy. "I’m gravely ill, as one might say." He gestured weakly to his forehead, a faint chuckle escaping him. I hesitated for a moment, then placed my hand against his forehead, startled by how hot he was. "Sylus, you’re burning up!" I exclaimed, my voice rising in alarm. He chuckled again, but it was weak, and the sound was hollow. "It’s not that bad," he murmured, though the flush of his skin and the shallow breath he took told a different story.
"How long have you been sick? Why didn’t you tell me?" I asked, my voice sharp with concern. Sylus shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Well, let’s just say it won’t be going away anytime soon," he replied vaguely, not offering much more than that. He shifted slightly in my lap, his gaze softening as he observed me. "You look like you’re in deep thought, sweetie. Please, indulge me," he said with a teasing tone.
I hesitated, feeling the weight of his words, before stammering, "I-I thought you couldn’t get sick…" The corners of his lips twitched into a wry smile, and he let out a rough chuckle. I opened my mouth, ready to scold him, but I stopped when he raised his hand, silencing me. "Be quiet for a bit," he said, his voice a little softer now. A comfortable silence stretched between us, and for a moment, I just focused on the steady rhythm of his breathing.
"Sylus, let's lie down properly," I suggested, my voice quiet but persistent. He nodded and slowly sat up, giving me the space to stand. I moved to the corner to remove my shoes, my movements careful not to disturb the calm. Once I was done, I made my way back to the bed, and without thinking, I plopped down onto Sylus's body, my usual careless habit taking over. He let out a low chuckle, his voice laced with playful sarcasm.
"Why did you plop down on me like that? I could’ve died." I rolled over onto the mattress, chuckling to myself, and settled more comfortably beside him. Sylus immediately turned toward me, pulling me into his arms with surprising ease. His face came dangerously close to my neck, and I felt his warm breath tickle my skin, sending a wave of heat rushing to my cheeks. In the quiet, I absentmindedly ran my fingers through his hair, the atmosphere calm and peaceful, until Sylus broke the silence by lightly grazing his teeth against the side of my neck.
The sensation caught me off guard, and I instinctively pulled at his hair, my breath catching. "Ow, be gentle," he teased, his voice playful, but it only made me huff in response. I quickly reached up to touch his forehead, pushing back his bangs. The heat radiating from him hadn’t gone down at all. Concern tightened in my chest as I pulled away, instinctively distancing myself. Sylus blinked, opening his eyes. He looked confused for a moment, and before I could fully react, I felt a magnetic pull dragging me back into his arms.
"I didn’t ask you to move your hands," he murmured, his tone more serious now, though there was still a hint of amusement. I sighed, my worry deepening. "Sylus, you’re burning up. We need to take some medicine." He scoffed, his defiance clear in his voice. "What are you talking about? I’m not taking that." "What? Why not?" I asked, baffled, sitting up and turning the bedside lamp on to get a better look at him. "It’s bitter," Sylus mumbled, looking away as though it were the most valid excuse in the world.
"But how will you get better if you don’t?" I insisted, reaching for the medicine on the bedside table. "I don’t need to," he muttered, then added with a frown, "The lamp is too bright. Turn it off. You can see without it." Listening to him, I reluctantly turned off the lamp. Sylus hummed in agreement, his arms pulling me back against him with a surprising amount of force. "If you want me to get better, cool me down yourself," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion.
"Be my ice pack," he requested, snuggling closer, his body pressing into mine as he let out a soft, contented noise. His warmth was overwhelming, and the way he buried himself into me made my heart flutter. Despite his teasing tone, I could tell how much he was relying on me in that moment, his usual strength seeming to slip away in his feverish state. I was jolted awake by the soft sensation of a kiss against my neck, and I immediately felt my cheeks heat up.
"Your neck’s warmer now that I kissed you," Sylus murmured, his voice low and teasing. I could practically feel his smirk against my skin. "Your body’s getting hotter, are you also getting sick?" he said, the amusement clear in his tone. "N-no, it’s because of you," I stammered, flustered, not wanting to admit the real effect his words and proximity were having on me. Sylus chuckled, the sound rich with mischief.
"Don’t blame me—I’m the sick one here," he teased, and I huffed, lightly hitting his chest in mock frustration. He let out a dramatic groan, one that was clearly fake. "Is this how you treat sick people?" he asked, though there was an edge of playfulness in his voice. I rolled my eyes. "Hey! I was dragged into this, okay?" I snapped back, not willing to admit how worried I really was for him. His lips brushed against my neck again, soft and warm, as he murmured, "You already said you’d take care of me, so my requests are reasonable enough."
I huffed, feeling a bit flustered and caught off guard. I didn't have a clever comeback to that. "Didn't you say you wanted to sleep, Sylus?" I asked, my voice teasing as I gave him a pointed look. Sylus chuckled and nodded, his smile softening. "Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get some rest." We fell into another comfortable silence, the quiet feeling peaceful, but of course, Sylus couldn't let it last. "You’re not a very good ice pack," he said suddenly, breaking the stillness.
"What?" I replied, my voice tinged with surprise and clear offense. "Excuse me?" "You didn’t cool me down—you only made things hotter," he replies, his tone dead serious. "Excuse me, I’m not Elsa, and you’re going about this all wrong. You need to sweat it out," I snap back with a quick retort. "Oh, really? Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?" he challenges. "Hey, it's free cuddles—who’s gonna turn that down?" I reply with a grin. He chuckles, clearly amused.
"Well, if I’m the one who needs to sweat it out, you’re the perfect person for the job—since you’re so hot," he says with a teasing grin. I blink, caught off guard by his words. "Are you talking about me?" I ask, trying to make sense of it. "Of course I am, sweetie," he replies with a playful smirk. "You’re already sweating and all... wet." I gulp, unsure if I heard that right.
"Are we still talking about me?" "Yeah, I’m talking about you, who else would I be talking about, sweetie?" he says with a mischievous look. "B-but I’m not wet," I stammer, my voice betraying me like a question. "Really? You think I’m lying?" He raises an eyebrow. "I can prove it to you right here, right now." My face turns crimson. "Uh, n-no need, Sylus. It’s, uh, fine," I stutter, trying to regain some composure.
"Give me your hand, don’t be shy," he says, his voice low as filthy thoughts begin to invade my mind. "When ice melts, it’s only natural to get wet," he adds with a teasing smirk. "But sadly, my temperature still hasn’t gone down, even with all your moving around." "I guess you're not as good at cooling me off as you thought." "Sylus—" I start, but his breath brushes against my ear, cutting me off.
"Do you know the old saying?" he asks in that rough, alluring voice. "When an opportunity presents itself, you make the most of it." He pauses for a moment, his tone dark and teasing. "So, until you've completely melted, I won’t stop."